in the bowels of Hell
by wild wolf free17
Summary: It is raining on Earth when Zachariah is summoned before the Throne. dark season 4 AU
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: in the bowels of Hell

**Chapter**: I

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: AU; dark

**Pairings**: none stated

**Rating**: Rish

**Wordcount**: 445

**Point of view**: third

* * *

It is raining on Earth when Zachariah is summoned before the Throne. In Heaven, the sun is bright, glinting off the golden stones. Dazzling in his eyes.

He goes proudly to stand before his Maker, head held high.

Pride is a sin, and Zachariah is expelled from Heaven.

On Earth, rain is falling.

o0o

In Hell, there is no sunlight. Zachariah had never truly noticed how warm Heaven was. Earth, too.

Hell is not warm. Despite the flames, Hell is frozen tundra.

Or maybe, that's just his torment.

o0o

Zachariah has no way to measure time in Hell. He tries to keep his mind blank, or to remember soaring from one side of existence to another. Anything to take himself away from the cold.

He cannot help but think about what he'd planned, the reason God cast him out, like Lucifer and his legions eons before.

Zachariah is still resolved to finish what he started. Surely, eventually one of the demons will come to him, will offer to deal. Zachariah had been one of God's favored for a long time.

Of course, so had Lucifer been.

o0o

When Zachariah is dragged to the Tormentor's workroom, he is not frightened. He stood before the Throne without trembling; what demon can compare to the might of the Maker?

It is Alistair, of course, grinning with blood on his teeth and coating his hands. Alistair, who followed Lucifer without hesitation, who threw himself from the sky the moment Lucifer began to Fall.

Beside him is Dean Winchester. Or, what used to be Dean Winchester.

Zachariah smiles. Maybe the plan will succeed, just as he wanted, because this man is still here.

"You know," Alistair drawls, one hand carving up some poor unfortunate soul. "Zach. I've heard things about you. About your little schemes."

Zachariah cocks his head to the side. "I can offer you escape from this Pit," he replies.

Alistair laughs, bringing his hand to his mouth and licking at the juice coating it. "Not gonna deal with you, Zach."

Zachariah is pulled to the rack and strapped down. Alistair stands at his head and pats his cheek. "And don't worry, little brother," Alistair whispers into his ear, smirking up at the catalyst of Zachariah's plan, at the Righteous Man needed to start Armageddon. "My sweet pet here—he's not the man you're looking for. Not anymore."

In all his eons, during the War and after, when he stood before God's majesty and accepted his punishment for daring to dream, Zachariah has never felt fear.

Alistair purrs, "Meet my star pupil," and Zachariah's soul trembles.

o0o

When Castiel swoops into Hell to rescue Dean Winchester, he doesn't even spare Zachariah a glance.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title**: in the bowels of Hell

**Chapter**: II

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: AU; dark

**Pairings**: none stated

**Rating**: Rish

**Wordcount**: 450

**Point** **of** **view**: third

* * *

He knows who and what she is the moment he sees her.

Ruby. Little hellspawn that spent the better part of his last year jerking Sammy around, getting Sam's hopes up. Lying and sneaking and plotting—her soulsmoke has Zach's stench all over it.

She doesn't recognize him as any more than Dean Winchester, Sam's brother. Maybe she knows what was done to him, what he did down there. Maybe she doesn't. But she makes some quip and leaves, and it's so obvious she thinks he's in the dark. Just stupid, blind Dean Winchester. Pawn.

He watches her go with the eyes Alistair ripped wide open and the angel's mark on his arm burns.

He is no one's pawn, now that he's out. Zachariah whimpered all about his grand design, the plot to release Lucifer to remake the world. Alistair laughed and Dean just kept on carving. Zachariah's intestines made such pretty pictures, traced onto his bone by his own soot-stained feathers.

He is no one's pawn, not Zachariah's or God's. Dean Winchester belongs to himself.

The angel brand burns but pain is nothing.

o0o

Sammy sleeps eventually, curled as much as he can be into Dean. Bobby is in the next bed.

Dean slips out of Sam's embrace and stands, staring down at the man who was once his everything.

Alistair ripped away all that Dean Winchester had been. He sliced Dean down into his component parts and then put him back together _wrong_.

He remembers Sam. Sammy. Baby brother. The world. But it's so far away, the emotions, the need.

Dean knows he traded himself away for Sam. But he can barely recall why.

No matter. Even when Alistair was playing around with his insides, he knows that the deepest part of him, the small smidgeon of his soul that went untouched, clung to this man. Kept him from losing everything.

That little hellspawn girl is waiting for Sam somewhere and Dean can feel her. He's been shoved back into this human body, but he was Alistair's favored down below.

"Sleep," he croons, reaching out with a tendril. "Don't wake before I'm back." He glances from Sam to Bobby, anchoring the command.

No, he is nobody's pawn. Not Hell's or Heaven's, not Zachariah's or Alistair's or Azazel's, or God's. It doesn't matter what brand is on his skin or his soul.

He can barely remember Sam, but Sam stayed with him, down in the bowels of Hell, when everyone left him. And that little girl Ruby—whatever her scheme is, it ends now.

Dean leaves the hotel room, sealing it up so that no one—human, heavenly, or hellish—can enter and follows Zachariah's stench to Sam's summertime companion.

_Checkmate_.


End file.
